Rank Jealousy
by Saint Mirror
Summary: Sequel of sorts to Some Kind of Comfort. Spina is losing his mind.


A/N: The sequel to _Some Kind of Comfort. _Can be read separately though.

Disclaimer: I do not own the _Band of Brothers_ miniseries nor do I make any money in writing this work of fiction; likewise I mean no offense to the actual men whom the series is based upon as this is based on the actors.

Rank Jealousy

Spina was jealous. He didn't mean to be, but every time he saw them together or thought of them together, he wanted to throttle the officer. He hated him.

It wasn't the Captain's fault, he knew. It wasn't like they had been in some sort of competition, but the fact still remained that he had lost to the man, and now he had to live with the knowledge that Roe would never be his.

You see, Speirs was fucking Roe.

Not many people knew it. To his knowledge, only he, Bill, Toye and most likely Lipton knew what was going on between the Cajun and Captain Speirs. That, in itself, made sense. It wouldn't do for the whole company to know the new CO was fooling around with a Toccoa man because really all Speirs was, was a replacement. Most of the original Easy men didn't like replacement and wouldn't take Roe's betrayal easily. He himself still couldn't believe the blithe manner in which Gene told him, how calmly he reacted when he accused the Cajun of taking Speirs' dick up his ass. Oh God, even as he was laughing and joking around with Luz and Perconte, he still couldn't stop himself from thinking about it.

"He don't put his dick in me," Gene had said. Yeah right, like he'd believe that. What did Gene think? That he would dare think that Speirs would ever, _ever,_ bottom? That the Captain would ever let anyone, much less some medic, have that much control over him? No way in hell would he ever believe that.

Gene also said that they hadn't actually fucked since that first time, and Spina might have believed him had it not been for the glint in Gene's eyes when he said it. Ralph had seen that look enough to know when someone was lying to him, and it pissed him off to no end that Gene felt he had to protect that murderous son of a bitch even as he was spilling his guts about their little fuck affair.

He could still hear Gene's slow drawl in his head, that voice holding just a touch of amusement as he asked, "I ain't no fag, am I?" Ralph had said no, of course. How could he have said anything else? To admit that he thought Gene was a fag meant he would have had to tell Bill and Toye all the things he and Gene had said, and he just knew he wouldn't be able to keep the jealousy out of his voice. So he'd kept quiet. For the rest of their stay in Bastogne, he kept quiet. He swallowed his tongue whenever he saw Speirs give Gene a look, just a look, but that glance told him that he wouldn't be seeing Gene until the small hours of the night when he'd come back, smelling of sex and shame, like he always did, but with a small, contented smile on his face, and Spina would again bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking Gene where he had been because he knew, damn it, he knew Gene would tell him every nasty detail, all the while smoking a cigarette and smiling that stupid fucking smile.

That was something Spina could not stand, and so he found himself sick with jealousy, unable to eat most days because of the rolling hatred for Speirs and (yes) Roe that claimed his stomach for days after.

However, that feeling had nothing on the pure terror he experienced when Speirs would look at him. Speirs never did anything; never threatened or approached him; hell most times he was in the middle of a conversation with Lipton or Winters or Nixon, and Spina would be passing by. To anyone else, it would appear as if Speirs was just looking off into nothing, but Spina knew, he just _knew_, that Speirs was looking at him. Those cold, dead eyes would catch his for just a second, and one side of Speirs' mouth would turn up in a smirk so small you could barely tell it was there. It was enough for Ralph, and it told him everything he needed to know. Speirs knew. Somehow, he knew that Roe told him, and the knowledge glittered dangerously in the Captain's dark eyes.

Logically, he knew that Speirs couldn't do anything, wouldn't do anything because that would be wrong, an abuse of his authority, and Speirs was a very honorable man. That was the logical part of him. The illogical part of him often took him down dark paths where lust and fear often danced together and spun him in dizzying circles until he couldn't tell which emotion was stronger, and the sharply vivid images haunted him long after he tore himself from their biting grasp.

In his dreams, Speirs and Roe's relationship transformed, became more than the simple fucking Roe described. Speirs, who normally bordered on terrifying, became a demon whose dark eyes became black pool leading into hell, his smirk pulling back to reveal bloodied razors for teeth; razors that always seemed ready to bite into the creamy flesh of Gene's neck. Gene became an angel, his beautiful blinding white wings spread out behind him as he ran eagerly toward the open and waiting arms of the demon Speirs. The demonic Speirs of Spina's dreams would always look up in Ralph's direction as he enclosed the angelic Roe in his evil grasp and smile, his razor teeth dripping with blood and his black eyes spilling death from their bottomless depths. But always Spina seemed to be chained down, and all his screaming at the demon to leave his Roe the fuck alone was for naught as Speirs ignored him and dragged the angelic Roe down to the depths of hell, laughing at Spina's inadequacy to save his beloved Gene as he did so.

It was no wonder that Spina rarely slept anymore. His jealousy was driving him mad. Every night he was reminded of the cruel fate that awaited Roe and felt powerless to stop it from happening. Unlike Speirs, he wasn't the driving force that kept Roe coming back for more.

-End-


End file.
